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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27829264">What's Your Type?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/wandering_gypsy_feet/pseuds/wandering_gypsy_feet'>wandering_gypsy_feet</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Walking Dead &amp; Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, F/M, Post-Episode: s04e12 Still, bethyl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:28:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,760</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27829264</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/wandering_gypsy_feet/pseuds/wandering_gypsy_feet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Beth Greene recalls a quiz that she and her sister took when they were younger to figure out their type of man. </p><p>She just never thought it would be for who she winds up with at the end of the world. </p><p>Bethyl, post Still, pre Alone, oneshot showing a moment of what might have been.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Daryl Dixon/Beth Greene</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>131</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>What's Your Type?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>showed up, got addicted, started writing, got my heart broke, started writing even more. i'm only like over half a decade late... right? </p><p>more to come. but this wouldn't get out of my head.</p><p>break my heart, daryl dixon.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For some insane reason, she wants to tell him about the quiz.</p>
<p></p><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div><hr/><p><br/>
</p>
<p></p><div><p>It'd been in one of Maggie's old teeny-bopper magazines. Beth had probably been just a bit too little for them and Maggie just a titch too old. But they found a lot of common ground there, and Beth loved to curl up in Maggie's room with her and flip through the glossy pages, giggling together. </p></div><div><p>The quiz had been something about finding 'your type' or whatever. The kind where you started with a question, answered yes or no, then followed that line to the next question and the next and so on until you reached the bottom where you got your answer. There were half a dozen or so answers you could get, the types of guys you could end up with. </p></div><div><p>There was a picture of them with a little blurb. Beth doesn't remember all of them, just that Maggie had gotten the 'nerdy guy' who was apparently 'smart, studious, and would write you poetry'. She was mad because she'd wanted the 'athletic guy' who was 'strong, hot, popular, and needs a cheerleader on the sidelines'. </p></div><div><p>She'd teased Beth and said she didn't even need to take the quiz. They all already knew what kind of guy Beth Greene would marry. Beth, the baby, the princess, the apple of Daddy's eye, there was only one kind for a sweet southern belle like her. The 'nice guy' who had straight white teeth and short, brown hair, who was 'kind and cute and always brings you and your mama flowers'. </p></div><div><p>Of course that was who Beth would end up with. Even as a little girl, her fate seemed pre-determined. A nice guy. </p></div><div><p>But what Beth never told Maggie - never told anyone - was that after Maggie had forgotten about the magazine and the quiz, had gotten distracted and then fallen asleep, Beth had went to her own room and opened the magazine once again, stopping on the page with the quiz, her curiosity burning her up inside if she didn't look some more, without Maggie's supervision. </p></div><div><p>Because there was another type of guy you could end up with apparently. And he'd caught Beth's attention. </p></div><div><p>The 'bad guy' who would 'ride up on a motorcycle, make your daddy mad and make your mama cry, but always promises you a good time'. </p></div><div><p>It was the picture that made Beth feel like blushing, her cheeks all warm. It was just because she'd never seen anyone like it before. Not at church or at school in her tiny town. The man - not a boy, but a man - had long, dark hair and tattoos up his arm and bulging muscles and his smile. It was a smile and not a smile, looking at Beth like he knew that she was fascinated by him. </p></div><div><p>Feeling silly and foolish, Beth traced the lines in reverse, from the picture of the man back up to the top, seeing what choices she'd have to make to get this answer. Of course, they are the kind she'd never be able to do. Lie to her parents and sneak out? Skip school? Go to a bar, have a drink, listen to rock music? </p></div><div><p>Maggie was probably right. Beth would end up with a nice guy, who brought her flowers. Beth would never end up with a bad boy. But that didn't mean that at night, when she closed her eyes for bed, that she couldn't at least think about a bad boy. </p></div><div><hr/></div><div><p>Telling Daryl about that memory is a mistake, so Beth bites her tongue. Besides, how would it even go? </p></div><div><p><em>Yeah, I had a charmed life before all this. But then the world went to shit and so I had to change, sure. </em></p></div><div><p><em>But it wasn't that big of a change. </em></p></div><div><p>She wants to tell him about that first moment she saw him drive up the long driveway of the porch. How, despite everything that was happening at that very moment, despite the fact that their world had been toppled on it's very head, she had only thought, with wild laughter she'd struggled to keep down, about that stupid quiz in that old magazine. </p></div><div><p>A bad boy on a motorcycle. Hell, he even looks like the photo, with his long hair and his leather vest. It's like he's stepped out of her imagination and into real life. And she's fascinated, make no mistake about that. She can't approach him, not with everything else going on. </p></div><div><p>She has to help her Daddy with Carl. He's always off looking for a little girl named Sophia. She has to help get camp set up, he has to organize a search party. But that doesn't mean she doesn't glimpse him, here and there. Carrying a crossbow. Doesn't say too much, but with quick and decisive words when he does. Covered in dirt, even though Daddy has offered everyone a shower. </p></div><div><p>But he shows up to mourn Otis, which makes Beth like him. Doesn't say much, but why would he? It's not like he knew him. But he's quiet, watchful, and so Beth gets to spend some time watching him through the corners of her eyes, trying to tell herself that it's just because she's never seen anyone like him before. </p></div><div><p>That's a lie now.</p></div><div><p>"What're you looking at?" he demands gruffly, bringing her back to the present. Beth realizes she has been staring, as he gets the fire set up and going. </p></div><div><p>"You reminded me of something," she says softly, drawing her knees to her chest. Daryl eyes her for a minute, over the fire. </p></div><div><p>"Something?" he asks, finally. "Not someone?" </p></div><div><p>You know, people are so wrong when they think of Daryl Dixon as some dumbass hick redneck good for nothing piece of shit who can only hunt and kill. Daryl is wrong when he thinks like that. Because Daryl is smart as hell and it makes the corners of her mouth twitch up. </p></div><div><p>"Yeah, something," she answers. "And another time, I guess." </p></div><div><p>"Gonna tell me or what?" he demands, after a few seconds of silence. Then he's back to tending to the fire. </p></div><div><p>"A dumb thing Maggie and I would do. As kids," she clarifies. She sees the rise of his eyebrow, but he stays quiet, forcing her to keep talking. "We'd get those silly magazines and they'd have all sorts of things in them, but they had quizzes. About what your style was, you know, like preppy or sporty or boho or whatever. And there was this one I remember taking. About what sort of guy you'd end up with." </p></div><div><p>That gets his attention. He looks up sharply, but holds himself very still, like he does when he's trying not spook off a deer or rabbit or whatever he's trying to catch and kill so that they can have some meager offerings in their bellies. It almost makes Beth giggle, to think that the thing he's trying not to scare away now is her. </p></div><div><p>"There were all different kinds, you know. The nerd and the jock and the nice guy or whatever. But there was another type too." here, she sees him brace himself. She wonders if she can read his mind, sure that it's saying 'hick, redneck, no good, white trailer trash' so she gives his thigh a little nudge with the tip of her boots. "The bad boy." </p></div><div><p>"Bad boy?" he looks at her with shock and she can't hold back the giggles any longer. </p></div><div><p>"Picture even looked like you," she informs him, between laughter. "And it said you'd ride up on a motorcycle, just like you did Daryl Dixon. Said you'd have long hair and tattoos and --" here she drops off, because the other part had been about making daddy mad and mama cry and both her parents are dead and gone now and she'd almost forgotten it for a moment. </p></div><div><p>"I ain't no..." he's muttering, to himself. "I ain't... Bad boy..." </p></div><div><p>"I always thought it'd be the type you'd marry or date or whatever," she says, scooting closer to the fire, trying to get warm. Daryl won't let it burn too long, to avoid attracting attention to them. But it's nice, right now. "I guess when I took that quiz all those years ago, I didn't expect it to be who I was going to try to ride out the end of the world with." she looks over to him, flashes him a grin and sees that he's holding himself all still again. </p></div><div><p>"You mad?" he asks, after a long pause and Beth furrows her eyebrows. </p></div><div><p>"Mad about what?" she has no idea what there is to be mad at him about. He's the only thing keeping both of them alive and they know it. </p></div><div><p>"Ending up..." he's struggling here, but Beth is patient and tries to let him get it out. "Me. Ending up with me." </p></div><div><p>"Oh!" she gives a peal of laughter and then stops at the look on his face, knowing that he thinks she's laughing at him, not with him. "No, Daryl. I'm so glad I ended up with you." she takes his hand, squeezing it. "I am. And not just because I always found the bad boy kinda cute."</p></div><div><p>"Cute," he echoes, staring at her skeptically. But he doesn't pull his hand away. </p></div><div><p>"Maybe not cute." she blushes despite the fact that this whole stupid is her idea, her train of thought. "But... Interesting. More interesting than the nice guy and the nerd and whoever. I knew like a hundred of them back home, before. Never met a real bad boy before you though." </p></div><div><p>"Yeah?" he replies, but it's a word and not a grunt and that's pretty much a resounding blessing that this topic doesn't annoy the shit out of him so Beth continues, reclining back to look at the stars so that he doesn't see her face.</p></div><div><p>"Yeah. You drove up to the house on that loud ass motorcycle of yours with that crossbow and I thought to myself, now there's a proper bad boy. None of those idiots who used to skip class and thought that smoking on the corners made them tough. You were the real deal."</p></div><div><p>"I used to skip class and smoke on the corners," he tells her, lying back beside her so that they're both staring up at the night sky. </p></div><div><p>"In the before?" she asks softly and he only grunts in confirmation. "Well, maybe so. But after, you became a real, certified bad boy. Never seen anything like you."</p></div><div><p>"Mhmm." he only gives her a little hum in response.</p></div><div><p>"I wonder if they have those quizzes for boys," she says to the stars. She might've been able to ask Shawn, once. Not anymore. Because of that, she elbows Daryl. "You ever take one of those?" </p></div><div><p>"No," he says, apparently unbothered by her skinny little elbow trying to catch him between the ribs. "Fuck I'd want that for?" </p></div><div><p>"I don't know." she doesn't know how boys' minds work, especially not his. "To see if you had a type or something." she pauses, then adds on after thought, "to see who your partner would be for the end of the world." </p></div><div><p>That gets a snort out of him and Beth grins. She likes it when she can make him laugh. Or at least make it seem like he's thinking about laughter. It's a nice change of pace from serious, brooding, anger-simmering-below-the-surface Daryl. </p></div><div><p>"Bad-ass," he says finally and Beth twists her head to look at him on the ground beside her. It reminds her of the first blurry days after the prison, where they'd ran and ran and ran and ran, then collapsed side by side, unable to go any further. </p></div><div><p>"Excuse me?" she asks him and he snorts again. </p></div><div><p>"Type of women. In this." he waves a hand at their surroundings and Beth catches on. Is he... Indulging her? Playing along with this stupid idea. </p></div><div><p>"Like Michonne," she agrees, turning back to the stars. "That's a good one. Uh... Mother." </p></div><div><p>"Carol," he agrees and she hears the sadness in his voice. Losing Sophia had hurt them all, but Carol still cared for Judith and the kids at the prison. She gives his hand a squeeze.</p></div><div><p>"Horn-dog," she says, after an appropriate amount of time has passed and hears Daryl splutter next to her. </p></div></div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Girl!" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What?" she likes surprising him too. It's funny to see what does it. "I was talking about Maggie! I know what her and Glenn were doing in that watchtower. I'm no kid!" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Fuck," she hears him mutter, but it's under some chuckling as well. She grins, turning their categories over in her head. She can't make herself fit into any of them. She's not a badass. And she's not a horn-dog either, for all her thoughts about Daryl Dixon being a bad boy. Maybe she's a mother, but not really. She minded Judith because she likes babies and it gave her something to do, but Judith was never actually hers. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What am I then?" she asks him aloud. She waits for him to say something about how she's deadweight or a burden or spoiled child. Because that's what she is, here in this world. Once she might've been the 'girl next door' or 'america's sweetheart' but here she's just weak and useless. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Angel." the word is so soft coming out of Daryl's mouth that she almost doesn't hear it. And even when it does, she can't quite believe it. She turns to stare at him, mouth slightly agape because there's no way in hell Daryl Dixon just called her an angel, there's no way in hell. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What?" she means for it to be teasing. Or funny. Instead she sounds all breathless and... Soft. Daryl shifts in discomfort and so now it's her to turn to stay still, hoping she hasn't scared him away. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Cause you can sing," he says finally, like it's from between gritted teeth. Like he hates admitting this at all. Like it pains him. "And your hair. Looked like an angel when we came to the farm. All... Light."</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh." she can't say much else. She can't think of much else. But it's like she's opened some of the floodgates on him, because he keeps talking. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"The kinda girl my mama'd tell me not to even talk to. Not even look at, cause you're too good for me. Ain't want no redneck trailer trash boy to touch her. Get you all dirty." he's not letting her hand go, not even as his voice gets harsh and ragged, the way it had when they'd played I Never and he'd yelled at her. "Never would've even looked at me if all this fucking shit hadn't happened. Never would've known my name. Just some stupid dirty hick and you're some good girl. An angel." he breaks off roughly and Beth doesn't move. Doesn't go anywhere. Knows better, knows not to startle him off.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Well," she says gently, once she's given him some time to collect himself. "Thank god for the end of the world then, so that I got to meet you, Daryl Dixon." </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The silence that falls between them is maybe a little awkward. And a little charged too. But Beth means it. She doesn't see him as some dirty redneck. He's just... Daryl. Sometimes he's a little crude. And he can be mean, when he puts his mind to it. But he keeps her safe. He finds moonshine for her. He lets her sleep longer than he does most nights. He's teaching her to track. And she likes that. She's glad he's not a nice guy or a nerd. She's glad he's him. And she's glad she's with him. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Beth?" he asks her finally. She gives a little hum to let him know she's still listening. "Who'd Maggie end up with in the quiz?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"The nerd," she says, then breaks down in a fit of giggles. It seems so fitting. And it feels good to laugh. Because Maggie is alive. Maggie has to be alive. Maggie is too stubborn not to be alive and out here, looking for her and everyone else. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Guess the end of the world can't change everything," Daryl says with a chuckle of his own and Beth breaks down in a fresh wave of laughter because they're okay for the night and holding hands under the stars and he's a bad boy and she's an angel but that's just fine because nothing matters anymore in this new world and at least they found each other. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Guess not." </p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>if any of you guys like it, there will be more coming. because this ship has infested my stupid brain and i'm going down HARD</p><p>reviews are a kindness</p></blockquote></div></div>
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